


Now That You’re Here (It’s Time for You to Go)

by littlemisslol



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)
Genre: Baby Varian, Based on Finnoky's Dark Kingdom Au, Brotherly feels, Family, Gen, In which the DK never fell, Spoilers this is "Eugene gets a baby brother and H A T E S it" the fic, Team Awesome, a brief smattering of the 7k canon but it literally is a blink and you'll miss it thing, also featuring my childhood memories of hating my brother when he was born, and eugene and varian grew up together, just needed to deal with Ulla somehow lmao, lmao oops, lotsa cute moments, so I tried to convince random people in walmart to adopt him, soooooo, ten year old Eugene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:06:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26046991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemisslol/pseuds/littlemisslol
Summary: Ten year old Prince Horace-Eugene- of the Dark Kingdom of Umbra has a perfect life. His family dotes on him, the castle is his playground, and he has anything his heart desires at the snap of his fingers. He's perfectly content...That is, until one of his aunts decides to have a baby.Now Eugene's stuck with some little upstart cousin who has everyone else wrapped around his chubby, baby fingers- and everything's shifting around in a way that Eugene isn't fond of. Suddenly no one has time for him anymore, the whole family caught up in Varian's arrival.And Eugene, for one, is sick of it.Based off of Finnoky's delightful AU over on tumblr!
Relationships: Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider & Quirin, Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider & Quirin & Ulla (Disney: Varian and the Seven Kingdoms) & Varian, Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider & Varian
Comments: 15
Kudos: 122





	Now That You’re Here (It’s Time for You to Go)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all!! Who's ready for 12k of fluff? Too bad you're getting it anyways!!! This is a fic based in [Finnoky's](https://finnoky.tumblr.com/) absolutely ADORABLE au, which I adore with my entire heart, 11/10 please god go check it out if you haven't seen it!!
> 
> There are also three places where specific drawings are being referenced, which include a link to those posts embedded into the text! 
> 
> Happy reading!!

Prince Eugene of Umbra is ten when his nemesis arrives. 

More specifically, he’s nine-and-a-half when his nemesis _starts_ arriving. 

It begins with Eugene’s auntie Ulla, his _favorite_ auntie, and the best science teacher he’s ever had, getting a little rounder around her middle. All the adults suddenly won’t stop congratulating her over _something_ \- when Eugene asks what, he’s only met by condescending grins and everyone telling him he’ll understand when he’s older. It puts a bitter taste in his mouth already; _when he’s older_ might as well mean never. The maids all coo over his auntie, telling her she’s so blessed, offering their help _when she’s further along_ , whatever that means. Eugene can’t help but feel out of the loop, especially as Ulla’s belly gets rounder and rounder over the next couple of months.

When Eugene finally gets to ask his father in the sparse few minutes they get to see each other between Edmund’s duties, the king looks puzzled, as if he expected Eugene to already know the answer. 

“She’s pregnant, Horace.” Father tells him, “In a few months you’ll have a new baby cousin to play with.” 

And then he leaves, off to the next meeting, leaving Eugene all the more confused. A baby? Why did Auntie Ulla need a _baby_? She had a family already, with Quirin and Adira and Hector and _Eugene_ \- why would she need some stupid baby? And why was it in her tummy, of all places? 

Eugene remains confused for the next five months after that conversation. 

Ulla gets tired easily, eight months after the weirdness starts. Her belly’s _huge_ by then, round and strange looking on her small form. It makes Eugene creeped out to see it- she looks almost sick with how thin she is compared to her stomach. Uncle Quirin, Auntie Ulla’s husband, hovers around her like a shadow, offering supportive hands and grabbing every little thing for her. For a while, things almost feel normal. 

And then Ulla cancels Eugene’s science lessons.

“What?!” He asks, voice high pitched and squeaky with the devastation. “What do you mean _cancelled?!”_

They’re in his lesson room, a room filled with books and tables and things for writing and science and maths- a smaller space but cozy, with the way Ulla had decorated it over the last seven years of teaching him. Large, bay windows line the wall to the left, a thick wooden door is centered on the wall to the right. 

And in the very center, stands Ulla. 

Ulla looks guilty, but she opens her arms out to him. Eugene can’t help it, he runs to her. She catches him gently in her arms, picking him up into a hug and gently maneuvering him around her massive stomach. Eugene clings around her neck, trying to push the tears down. Science, while a boring topic, was always fun with Ulla teaching it- if she had to stop it would be taught by another one of his tutors, and _none_ of them were as fun as Ulla was. He sniffles, hugging her closer. Ulla coos to him, pressing a kiss into his hair. 

“I’m sorry, Eugene, darling.” She tells him, “But it’s only for a few months. Once your cousin is here and settled I’ll be able to start teaching again- but until then I have to take it easy for a while.” 

This is _terrible_ , in Eugene’s opinion. Everyone keeps talking about this stupid baby that’s suposedly coming soon- but if they’re not even here yet, then why does anyone care? Eugene pouts through his entire lesson, even as Ulla sets him down and they sit across the table from one another. He’s barely listening as Ulla tries to go over what he’ll be learning with the different tutor. Eventually she gives up, standing slowly and waddling towards the large door of his school room. She’s been having issues walking lately, Eugene knows, with her stomach as big as it is. Ulla pauses and looks back to Eugene, the boy still seated at the table with his arms crossed and a pout set firmly on his face, and she sighs. 

“One day, you’re going to be so happy to have a little sibling.” She tells him. “I know I was.” 

Eugene refuses to look at her, focusing with a single minded determination out a nearby window. Ulla opens her mouth like she wants to say something else, but cuts herself off with a sudden, pained gasp. Eugene looks at her then, startled by the noise, and sees her nearly doubled over in agony. 

“A-auntie?” He says, standing from his chair, it falls backwards with a clatter. “Auntie, what’s wrong?” 

Ulla near collapses against the doorframe, both hands clutching her stomach. She ignores Eugene, looking frantically down the hall. She looks terrified, her eyes wide and wild as she bites her lip. She’s _pale_ , shaking and starting to sweat as her eyes dart down the hallway with a sense of frantic energy. Ulla grits her teeth against the pain as she twists to face down the hallway leading to the rest of the castle. 

“Quirin!” She screams, and Eugene steps back in fright. He’s heard Ulla use the _stern_ _voice_ that all adults have, but he’s never heard her scream- high pitched and full of fear in a way that sends shivers down Eugene’s spine. Ulla’s face is pale as she sinks a little lower on the door frame, her skin going white as she starts to breathe heavily. It’s scary, the stuttered, desperate gasps of a woman trying to force air into her lungs. Eugene hears multiple heavy footsteps running towards the school room, and the once quiet classroom is launched into chaos.

Quirin arrives first.

The large man- _strong and kind, the man Eugene has looked up to for years_ \- scoops Ulla up with a quick movement. The woman gasps in pain- her face scrunches up into something agonized. Quirin is pale- his expression is grave and near desperate as he starts to leave the room. Hector and Adira follow swiftly, dodging out of their brother’s way as Quirin bolts from the room. Eugene tries to follow, but Adira stops the boy with a firm hand on his shoulder, something grounding but also commanding. Just before Eugene loses sight of his auntie, he hears her gasp out in terror- her voice carries as she wails. 

“It’s too early!” She cries, but Eugene can’t hear what Quirin says back to her- they’ve already left the room and are long gone. The silence that follows them hangs thick in the air, tense and near palatable. Adira’s hand is strong on Eugene’s shoulder, the white-haired woman holding him in place.

“What’s wrong with Auntie Ulla?” Eugene asks frantically, trying to pull away to follow. The hand on his shoulder easily keeps him in place. Eugene twists to look up at his other aunt, feeling himself pale at her expression. Adira’s face is grim; it’s the scariest thing the boy’s seen all day. 

“Your cousin is about to arrive.” Adira says, and it sounds like a death knell. 

Eugene turns back to the door, and gulps. 

The entire castle is in an uproar. 

Eugene’s never seen so many people all look so nervous at once. The maids twitter to each other in little circles, whispering frantically to one another as they work. Eugene can only catch snippets as he wanders through the halls- the staff _always_ stop their gossip as soon as one of them catches sight of their prince. They all bow with perfect poise; Eugene hates it. Oddly, the guards are just as chatty. Father would be _furious_ to see his guard acting like a bunch of old fuddy-duddies, but the King’s locked in his study as per usual- Eugene could steal a million pastries from the kitchen and the man would never even know. It’s doubtful the king even knew what had happened to Ulla. 

News of Ulla’s… episode had travelled quickly through the castle of Umbra. That was how it usually went- Eugene’s only ten and even _he_ knows that once a rumour has hit the kitchen staff it might as well be a royal decree. Ulla’s collapse has been the talk of the castle for the entire day since it had happened; each time Eugene can actually catch snippets of the conversation, it all revolves around the same concern. 

_Too early,_ the maids whisper in the abandoned hallways, their arms full of linens. 

_Too early,_ the guards grunt, leaning to talk to their teammates around the doorways. 

_Too early_ , the cooks mutter, clustered around their pots and pans. 

_Too early_ , the castle sighs, despondent and mournful. 

_Much too early_. 

Eugene’s footsteps don’t even echo in the silent hallways. His boots are leather, soft and buttery; he barely makes a sound as he slips around the guards and heads towards the infirmary. The halls of the castle are cold this far down, the chill settles deep the further down the prince goes; Eugene’s never had to really visit the infirmary save for one or two small bumps when he was small, and as he draws closer he remembers why. 

The lower levels of Umbra Castle are made of the same solid stone as the rest of the castle, but the major difference is that there is a distinct lack of windows. The darkness of the lower castle gives Eugene the creeps, the deeper shadows look like they could be rearing back to swallow him whole- but Eugene is _ten years old_. He doesn’t have time to be scared. He has to go find his aunts and uncles and find out what’s happened. 

When he reaches the corner he knows leads to the infirmary, he pauses. He hears voices- Quirin’s, Adira’s, and Hector’s, specifically- and the conversation sounds dire. The prince pauses, back to the cold, grey stone. Eugene knows that if he’s caught he’ll surely be sent back to his room. The boy slouches close to the wall, pressing back tightly. His governess will pitch a fit when she sees the dust all over his clothes, but he’s a prince on a mission. Eugene puts a small hand on the corner, peeking around to see his family.

The Brotherhood- both of his uncles and one of his aunts- are clustered around the infirmary door. Quirin slouches on a small, wooden bench. He’s slumped over himself, his hands up and covering his eyes. The man kneads at his face, shaking his head. Adira and Hector stand in front of him, both of them tense. Adira’s got her arms crossed; Eugene can see her fingers twitch. Hector looks much the same, leaning against the wall in a false casualness. 

“I don’t know what I’m going to do.” It’s Uncle Quirin, but the man sounds close to tears. A rock settles in Eugene’s gut- he’s never heard his uncle sound so… defeated. Quirin was the type of person who was the _rock_ of a group- strong, stoic, and solid. To see him so shaken, so misplaced… it was terrifying, to Eugene, to see someone he thought infallible brought so low. 

“They’ll be fine.” There’s Hector, gruff and to the point. “Ulla’s stronger than that.” 

Eugene hears someone sniffle. It’s a deep voice, and it cuts off like the person’s ashamed of it. There’s a beat of tense silence before Eugene sees Quirin rub at his eyes again, rougher this time.

“Sorry.” Quirin again, and _oh, he sounds like he’s actually crying_. The stone in Eugene’s gut only grows.

“They’ll be okay.” Aidra. Certain and centered, but with more compassion than Hector. “Let it out, that’s your wife in there.” 

“I don’t know what I’m going to do if they-” 

Eugene’s hand slips.

All three of the adult’s heads snap to the end of the hall. 

Eugene tenses when they catch sight of him. The Brotherhood are terrifying when they’re going into battle- they’re even more so when they’re all ready to unleash a torrent of parental fury. The noise of Eugene’s scuffle echoes through the hall, all the more damning. Adira’s face is stoic, Hector’s angry, but Quirin’s… is devastated. 

Adira is the one who moves forward, but it’s Quirin who speaks.

“What are you doing here, Horace?” He asks, and his voice is raw. Eugene feels the stone in his stomach only sink deeper, a cold dread buried in his guts that only drags him down into the stones below his feet. The way the man says his name makes him feel _sad_.

“I… I wanted to see Auntie Ulla.” Eugene says, scuffing the toe of his boot on the floor. He feels his face flush at getting caught so easily. “I wanted to see if she was okay.” 

Quirin’s face crumples. Eugene feels ill. 

“Ulla’s… sick.” Quirin says, “She’s trying to get better.” 

“Is it ‘cause of the baby?” Eugene asks, before his mind can catch up with his mouth. Hector and Adira tense, looking to Quirin with apprehension. Eugene’s seen those looks before, long ago, when his own mother left him. The thought of this happening _again_ to his aunt makes the cold feeling of dread climb up from his stomach and into his throat. Quirin’s expression is devastated, his brows knit together and his eyes scrunch shut. He looks like a stranger, even when he waves Eugene closer.

“Yes.” Quirin says softly, “The baby got impatient, and decided they wanted to be born early. Your aunt wasn’t ready for it so soon, so she needs to stay with the doctor for a while.”

“Oh.” Eugene says, not quite understanding but pretending that he does. It’s like when father speaks to him- he needs to act as if he gets it, if he wants to be given more information. A question nags at Eugene, and he asks it. “Why didn’t she just tell the baby to wait?” 

Quirin lets out a watery laugh, and scoops Eugene up to sit on his knee. Normally the boy would protest- he’s _ten_ now, much too old for cuddles- but the way Quirin hugs him tightly makes Eugene pause. 

“The baby was _very_ insistent.” Quirin says. Eugene nods again, but something in him feels annoyed. If Eugene had to be patient all the time, why does the baby get to just demand what they wanted any time of day? His face must do something funny, because Quirin laughs again. 

“Don’t blame them.” Quirin hugs Eugene close. The prince sinks into it- Quirin gives the _best_ hugs. “They were just excited to meet everyone.” 

Oh. That’s fair, Eugene would suppose. The baby has a lot of people to meet, after all. Lots of aunties and uncles and the castle staff certainly would want to meet them, and Lance was excited to meet the baby too when Eugene had mentioned them, and-

The door to the infirmary opens. 

Everyone tenses, Eugene included. One of the physicians- Eugene doesn’t know her name, but he’s seen the woman around the castle- walks out, her mouth set in an exhausted line. Her grey hair is pulled up in what was once probably a nice bun, but now is losing strands and covered in sweat. Her back is straight, but the prince can see in the way her hands shake that she’s close to dropping. Eugene can feel Quirin slouch in relief as the woman nods, looking at all of them with a tired grin.

“They made it.” She says, and the mood lifts considerably. “It was a fight at the start- but they made it.” 

There’s more conversation; Eugene doesn’t pay attention to it. He focuses instead on the sudden feeling of drops of water hitting the crown of his head- Quirin’s crying, he realizes with a start. Eugene hugs his uncle just that little bit tighter, and delights when the man hugs him just as hard. 

“Would you like to come in?” The physician asks them, and Eugene can’t recall a time the Brotherhood has ever moved so quickly. Quirin gives one more solid hug before setting Eugene down so he can stand; Eugene’s little boots make a small _pap_ as they hit the stone again. 

The doctor leads them into the main chamber of the infirmary. It’s a large space, made to house tens of soldiers in the case of a battle- but Umbra hasn’t been to war in years. The infirmary has lain nearly empty for most of that time. It’s a long, thin room with nearly fifty empty beds lining the stone walls separated by thin dividers and side tables. The bed closest to the door is the only one occupied; a cluster of nurses work quietly, clearing away tools and linens from around the bed. Eugene catches sight of bright red on the blankets as the nurses carry them off, but quickly looks back as Quirin stumbles forward, towards his wife’s bedside. 

Ulla is pale- she looks wrung out, exhausted and worn thin. If Eugene didn’t know better, he’d say she looks nearly skeletal, her face sweaty and pale. Eugene hangs back a little as Quirin takes Ulla’s hand in his and kisses it with reverence. Ulla’s awake, her eyes glazed over a little with fatigue. Her hair lays flat and messy, torn out of its usual bun. She smiles at her husband, leaning in as Quirin peppers her face with kisses. 

Eugene gags a bit- grown-ups are so _gross_ \- and wanders a little closer to the other side of the bed. A small bassinet sits there, standing at Eugenes’s chest height. The boy inches forwards, skirting around the adults all swarming Ulla. The bassinet is quieter territory, slightly off to the side and mostly ignored. It’s made of carved wood, with two strong sides that extend down to the floor for legs. One side rises up above the bassinet, gently curving into a small arch. It’s like a small, rounded roof that covers the far quarter of the bassinet, a perfect headboard to hang a mobile from. It’s carved into little panels, each in turn carved with small designs of different styles. 

It’s _his_ old cradle, Eugene realizes, the one he’d had as a baby. It had been his mother’s as well, when she was born, and her father’s before her. Eugene can’t help but feel a little strange, seeing it again. After his mother had passed away...

He never thought he would. 

The adults are still clustered around Ulla- Eugene can hear her assure them that she’s fine, just tired- but the boy still lifts up onto his toes to peek over the inch thick wooden wall of the bassinet. The crib is lined with white linen, soft and smooth, with the interior walls padded like the bottom is. The wood creaks as Eugene leans more weight on it, setting an arm down on the edge and looking at the little thing laying in the exact center. 

The baby is _tiny_ \- that’s Eugene’s first impression. They’re dressed in a blue nightgown looking thing, buttoned high on their neck and open at the bottom. Eugene can see teensy feet kicking idly as the baby stares up at the world with wide, curious blue eyes. They already have hair on their head, black like Quirins and- oh, there’s a small swatch of blue growing from near the crown, that’s interesting. 

The baby makes an unconscious _merp_ noise, eyes still drowsily flicking around the ceiling like it’s the most interesting thing they’ve ever seen. Eugene tilts his head to the side, resting his cheek on the arm he has balanced on the edge of the bassinet. 

The baby’s so _small_ \- Eugene’s never seen a baby this close before; he’s seen them in passing in the lower town, but never right in front of him, and never a baby so young. The infant makes another squeaky noise, their little face scrunching up like they just ate something gross. Eugene can’t help but laugh, reaching in to gently poke at the baby’s pudgy cheek. The baby makes a happy coo at that, their wee feet kicking as they squirm at the contact. The infant reaches a clumsy hand up, Eugene can’t help but feel delighted as the baby grabs a hold of his finger, shaking it in their tiny hand. 

“You’re so _small_.” Eugene whispers, burying his mouth into his arm to hide the wide smile that grows with each passing second. “And _cute_!” 

Because the baby is- cute, that is. They’re _itty bitty_ , with a healthy pink flush to their freckled cheeks, and a head full of fluffy black hair. Tiny and pudgy and squirmy- the baby reminds Eugene of when one of the hunting dogs had puppies, they had sparked the same kind of feeling in him that was settling deep in his heart at this very second. Something warm and glowing, like pure sunlight in his chest.

The baby makes another _merp_ noise, their wide, blue eyes locking onto Eugene as the older child looks down at them, utterly besotted. The infant looks dazed almost, unfocused and sleepy, but that's okay. Eugene couldn’t remember his own experience, but he knows being born was probably quite the ordeal. The little one’s grip on Eugene’s finger is stronger than he’d expected, the baby makes a coo as they shake it a little with a sense of curiosity. 

[“Hi, baby,” Eugene whispers, “I’m your big cousin, Eugene.”](https://finnoky.tumblr.com/post/625832501372403712/wait-so-can-we-see-eugene-meeting-varin-for-the)

“He seems excited to meet you.” Says a tired voice nearby, and Eugene startles. 

He looks up to see Ulla, smiling brightly at the two of them. The prince feels his face heat up, flushing at getting caught cooing over the baby. The adults are all looking at him and the baby- the infant still hasn’t let go of his finger, clinging with an oddly strong grip. Eugene doesn’t try to pull away. 

“He?” Eugene asks instead of acknowledging Ulla’s comment. The woman’s smile only gets wider, leaning back against the mirad of pillows propping her up. She’s looking a bit better than she had minutes ago, the flush slowly returning to her cheeks, chasing the terrifying paleness away.

“Yes, _he_.” She says, “His name is Varian.” 

Eugene looks down at the baby- _Varian_ \- and grins. The prince settles back into his pose, pressing his mouth into his sleeve again. He wiggles his finger in Varian’s clinging grip, and the baby replies with a few more soft noises. Eugene feels his heart melt. 

“Hi, Varian.” Eugene says into his arm. The baby doesn’t respond- he must not know his name yet- but he _does_ make another tiny, scrunched expression that makes Eugene’s heart fill with warmth. The prince leans closer, watching those little feet kick again before whispering to the baby boy.

“I think we’re going to be great friends,” He murmurs; Varian’s blue eyes lock with his own brown ones. “Just you wait.” 

Eugene starts to regret that statement a few days after Varian’s arrival. 

To start, the baby is _loud_. He wails long into the night- and Eugene has to hear _every stupid cry_. Ulla and Quirin’s chambers are a little down the hall from Eugene’s, but the nursery is right next door; the prince has been woken up every few hours when Varian starts screaming for no apparent reason. Every night Eugene tries something new, from shoving a pillow over his head, to ear plugs swiped from the forges outside, to asking father to move his bedroom- but nothing works. Varian keeps screaming, and Eugene keeps losing sleep. 

And _no one_ seems to care.

“He’s just a baby, Horace.” Father chides Eugene when the boy complains over dinner one night, “Varian will get over it as he gets older- _you_ screamed much louder than that one ever did, my son.” 

“He’ll grow out of it.” Quirin tells him during sword training, “It will only be for a few months, maybe a year.” 

“I’m sorry, Eugene,” Ulla murmurs, still stuck on bedrest, but delighted to have Eugene as a visitor, “I know it’s hard. But Varian can’t help it. He doesn’t know how to talk. He only knows how to cry right now- so that’s what he does to let us know something’s wrong.” 

Deep down, Eugene knows they’re right. Even if he’s never had to deal with a baby before, even he knows that they cry for _everything_. But that doesn’t make it any better when, in the dead of night, Varian screams to the high heavens like something’s trying to kill him. _Really_ , what can the baby be screaming about? He’s fed, he’s safe in the castle, he’s tucked in and taken care of just like Eugene is- what could possibly be so wrong that Varian feels the need to scream bloody murder? 

By the sixth day since Varian’s arrival, Eugene is ready to _snap_. 

“Can’t he just go to sleep?” Eugene’s asking as Hector leads him into a sitting room. “I mean, Uncle Hector, you understand me, right? I can’t take much more!” 

Hector only chuckles, giving Eugene a good natured push into the room. “Unfortunately, we’re all just going to have to adapt.” The man says, going and sitting next to Adira on a couch. The woman doesn’t make room for him, so he ends up half sprawled on top of her, but Eugene’s used to these kinds of antics from his relatives- thus, when the inevitable argument and rough housing starts, he’s able to ignore it with the zen of a man three times his age.

The room is large, round and full of assorted bookshelves and couches. A large fireplace burns merrily, the light reflecting off a large set of tall windows. Eugene’s family is all there, even Edmund managed to make it, all of them sitting around Ulla, who is surrounded by a series of gifts. Little Varian is tucked up against her, the woman holding her baby close as she opens the presents with one hand if she can. Eugene sits next to her, flopping down onto the purple couch with a sigh. 

Ulla smiles at him, leaning over to press a kiss onto his head. Eugene smiles at the affection, blushing a little as Ulla leans back. Varian makes a grumpy little noise, kicking in his sleep. Eugene can’t help but scrunch his nose, but takes a deep breath, centering himself.

His family all chatter around him, and the fire is warm and bright. Eugene may be tired, but this is the kind of time he cherishes, having them all around at once is a rare, but welcome, occurrence. Eugene watches as Quirin passes Ulla another gift, the woman laughing as she tries to balance it and Varian in her hands at once.

“Oh, ha, um...” She says, looking around as the gift wobbles. Quirin holds out a hand, the man looking as tired as his wife, but Ulla’s eyes suddenly spark with a thought. She turns to Eugene, and he feels himself tense under that look. It’s never good, when Ulla has that glint in her eye, it always ends with something on fire or-

“Eugene, could you hold Varian for me?” She asks, and Eugene’s heart sinks a little. 

“I- uh.” He says eloquently, already looking for an out. “Are you sure?” 

Ulla’s face splits into a wide grin, one that scrunches her face and makes her look younger. “Of course,” She says, “He’s your little cousin after all, it’ll give you some time to get to know each other.”

Ah. Wonderful.

Eugene can’t really find it in him to argue, especially when Ulla looks so worn out. If Eugene’s tired she must be exhausted- she and Quirin are the ones who have to actually deal with Varian as he screams, after all. She smiles at him, wide and beaming, and before Eugene knows it he’s got a pillow in his lap and his arms are suddenly full of baby. 

Varian is still asleep, despite the transition, near swaddled in a new nightgown. It looks almost like a tiny dress- today’s is blue with a tiny white frill around the collar. Ulla must have picked a fancier one for Varian’s baby shower. His little hands curl and relax in his sleep, gentle, unconscious movements that mimic the way his tiny legs kick every so often. Varian’s… a cute baby, Eugene will admit. Small and pudgy with baby fat- generally holding Varian reminds Eugene of carrying a frighteningly small sack of potatoes. Varian’s _light_ , he barely weighs a thing; Eugene can’t help but wonder if that’s due to his early arrival or if the kid’s just not eating enough.

Eugene looks down to the baby, who begins to squirm. Varian blinks his big blue eyes open, focusing on Eugene’s face with a sudden stare. The prince laughs a little- Varian looks shocked to see the older boy instead of his mother holding him. Somewhere off to the side Eugene can hear the adults saying something, but he tunes it out in favor of looking down at his little cousin with a curious face. That warm feeling starts to creep back into his chest, curling close to his heart like an old friend. Eigene feels a small smile creep over his face.

Maybe the baby isn’t _that_ bad-

[Varian opens his mouth and starts to wail.](https://finnoky.tumblr.com/post/625835138287353856/eugene-liked-baby-varian-until-he-started-crying)

Eugene cringes at the piercing noise- the same noise that had been keeping him up all week- and looks to Ulla frantically for help. For all Varian is tiny, he’s _loud_ when he wants to be. _Nope_ , Eugene decides, _the baby’s annoying_. Case and point, Varian’s screaming somehow gets _louder_ ; the baby begins to sob like he’s absolutely devastated that Eugene’s holding him. Little arms and legs flail in every direction as Varian squirms- for a second Eugene’s scared he’s gonna drop the kid- but Ulla takes pity and scoops Varian up from the prince’s arm in a natural motion. 

“Ah, come here Grumpy-Gus!” She says to Varian, snuggling him close so that the baby can shove his teary face into the crook of her neck. Ulla looks down to Eugene with a _what-can-you-do_ expression, shrugging as best she can. “Sorry, he must be crabby.”

Eugene tries his best not to scowl, glaring as Varian begins to calm down in the presence of his mother.

_That makes two of us_ , he thinks. 

Things continue to get worse.

Ulla spends _all_ her time with the baby. From the minute Eugene sees her at breakfast to the second she gives him a kiss goodnight, Varian’s always there clinging to her like a little limpet. A part of Eugene gets it- Varian’s effectively useless at this age, he can’t even sit up on his own yet- but it doesn’t make it less annoying when Eugene tries to talk to his aunt only to be interrupted by Varian’s crying _again_. 

Around the fourth month after Varian was born a strange woman came to visit the castle of Umbra. 

She’s one of Ulla’s old friends, apparently- Eugene doesn’t get to know much beyond that since he’s shooed from the room once they start to talk business. He’s used to this, usually from his father- once the pleasantries are over with it quickly becomes _go on, Horace,_ or _go to your studies, my prince_ , or, more recently…

_Go play with your cousin_.

Ugh.

Varian isn’t a good playmate, not like Lance is. He can’t even really sit up on his own- Eugene had been given nearly an hour long dissertation from Ulla about watching Varian’s neck and head. He’s just little, apparently, and babies can’t really hold their own heads up very well- it’s the stupidest thing Eugene’s ever heard. Everyone thinks the dumb baby is _the best thing ever_ but he can’t even sit up properly? 

_Kinda pathetic_. 

But that’s where he ends up, laying on his stomach on the floor of the library, hiding in one of the alcoves made to sit in and read. Varian’s flat on his back, dressed in a tiny onesie and kicking his feet like the dumb little baby he is. Eugene’s been entertaining himself with holding a stuffed raccoon over the infant, waiting for the baby to reach up for it and yanking it away. Varian doesn’t seem to be bored, flailing with excitement at the game of keepaway. There’s a gummy smile split across the baby’s face- if Eugene didn’t know about the little hellspawn’s real nature, he’d almost call it cute. 

Varian makes delighted gurgles as he reaches again for the toy. Eugene can’t help but feel a mean little pulse of joy at lifting the toy away from those flailing hands over and over. The prince laughs as he brings the stuffed raccoon back down, unable to help it as Varian kicks his little feet.

But he’s caught off guard when Varian laughs too. 

It’s a tiny, tinkling noise- like wind chimes or tiny bells. Varian’s face screws up in a doughy little smile, his squishy cheeks smushing together in a way that makes Eugene’s chest feel warm. 

“I… did you just laugh?” Eugene asks him, as if Varian could answer. The baby- to his credit- laughs again as if in answer. Eugene feels something in him go mushy at the delighted face of his little cousin, letting the toy raccoon drop down into Varian’s waiting arms. Varian let out a cheerful screech, hugging the toy close.

“You just _laughed_.” The prince repeats. “I didn’t know you knew how to do that.” 

Varian kicks his little feet, gumming on the toy’s fabric ear. Eugene pokes him gently, smirking as those chubby cheeks squish in like dough. Varian reaches out a hand, absolutely tiny in comparison. The baby manages to grab hold of Eugene’s finger, shaking it clumsily. The prince was drawn back to four months ago, when they’d first met. 

“Yeah, whatever, you little monster.” Eugene muttered. “You might have everyone else fooled, but not me.” 

Varian doesn’t acknowledge the fact, blinking blearily as the sun beyond the windows begins to set. It casts a soft, orange glow across the floor they lay on, warm and gentle. Eugene rests his chin on his hands, propping himself up on his elbows and idly kicking his feet. Varian seems completely enamoured with the toy raccoon, cooing and shaking it with glee. _At least the kid’s easily entertained_ , Eugene thinks with a grin.

Ulla comes to get them soon enough. When she enters the room she looks stressed out, her hair a bit of a mess. Eugene only catches a glimpse of a frown on her face before she wipes it away. She moves close to them, sitting across from Eugene. Varian lays between them, squealing when he catches sight of his mother.

“There’re my favorite boys!” Ulla says, scooping up the baby and hugging him close. She looks up to Eugene with a genuine smile- so set on her face Eugene could almost forget the grimace she’d worn just seconds ago. 

“He was good for you?” She asks him. Eugene nods, sitting up with a grunt. Ulla snuggles Varian closer, the baby quickly nodding off to sleep in her arms. “Good, good.” 

She stands from the stone floor, shifting her weight to keep from jostling Varian. Eugene follows, looking up to her. The stressed expression is back, creasing the skin between her eyebrows. She gestures with a nod of her head for him to follow her- and it’s only then that he notices how late it’s gotten to be. It’s nearly his bedtime, meaning Varian’s overdue by at least two hours. Eugene trails behind Ulla for the trip down a few hallways towards their bedrooms. He stays quiet, locking eyes with Varian’s drowsy ones as the baby peeks up over Ulla’s shoulder. 

“What are we going to read tonight?” Eugene asks her to break the silence, wincing when Ulla pauses outside his bedroom. She turns to face him, and the guilty look on her face makes his heart sink. 

“I can’t tonight.” Her face is drawn into a frown when she looks down at Eugene. The disappointment hits Eugene harder than he’d admit- Ulla _always_ reads to him before bedtime. She must see it in his face, as her own expression drops into an even deeper frown.

“I’m sorry, Eugene.” She says. “I need to tend to Varian and it’s already past both your bedtimes.”

Oh. Because of the _baby_ \- of course, it always boils down to the stupid _baby_ doesn’t it. Eugene tries to keep the scowl from his face and must fail. Ulla sighs and shifts Varian in her arms, looking down at him with a small, disappointed face. Eugene feels something in him twist at the way she looks at him, but he keeps the scowl firmly planted on his face. 

“ _Eugene_.” Ulla says, near exasperated. “Varian’s only little, he needs more help. It won’t be forever-” 

“Well it sure feels like it!” Eugene snaps, storming into his bedroom. Ulla tries to follow, but he slams the door in her face. The noise rattles in his ears, and the door rattles on its hinges. Something in Eugene likes the way it echoes, something bitter and angry. If his father saw that, Eugene would surely go the night without supper tomorrow- but father’s never around and everyone else is too caught up with Varian to care. Eugene locks the door, sliding the latch in place with a rough push. He hears Varian crying on the other side- _good,_ a mean part of him thinks _, let the little jerk cry_ \- and Ulla’s frantic knocking.

Eugene crosses the room and throws himself on the bed, burying his face into the pillows. He screams a bit, tuning out Ulla calling his name and Varian’s sobs. If Ulla’s content to ignore him, then Eugene will ignore her right back. Moonlight streams through his windows, bathing the room in a calm, white light. Eventually it goes quiet outside his door- after nearly half an hour- and Eugene falls into an uneasy sleep.

When he wakes up, he’s informed by a despondent Quirin that Ulla had left with her visitor, off on a grand adventure across the seven kingdoms. The man says she’ll be back in a few months, successful or not. Eugene scowls, but he’s used to the Brotherhood coming and going on quests- Ulla’s journey is no different, he thinks, he _knows_. 

But he’s wrong. 

Ulla never comes back. 

Varian, somehow, gets _worse_. 

The baby’s cranky more often than not, now that Ulla’s gone. It’s been _months_ since she’d died- since the strange woman came back with nothing but Ulla’s goggles and a quick _I’m sorry_ before leaving again. Umbra castle is quiet- the maids and guards and cooks keep their talking to a minimum in the wake of Ulla’s death. Quirin locks himself away for days at a time, vanishing into his bedroom like a wraith. Varian’s left in the care of Hector and Adira… and Eugene, by extension. 

The baby is near inconsolable, wailing all hours of the day like it’s all he knows how to do. Eugene’s close to leaving the baby somewhere for a maid to pick up, but he’s stopped by his aunt- _singular_ \- and uncles. They make their excuses for Varian’s cries, Quirin especially. 

_Varian misses his mother_ , Quirin tells him, bouncing the baby as Varian sobs, _he doesn’t understand that… that she’s gone_.

Well, Eugene misses his mother too, but you don’t see him crying about it. Sure, when he’d been told Ulla had passed away, he’d run so far through the castle that he’d nearly gotten lost. Eugene had ended up locked in a closet, where he sobbed until he made himself sick- but eventually Eugene had picked himself up like the prince he was and forced himself to keep going. 

Father would be proud, if he knew.

Now he spends as much time as he can away from the baby as he can. Stupid _Varian_ who had caused Eugene to yell at Ulla the last time he saw her, stupid _Varian_ who had taken up all her time in the last few months Eugene had to know her before she was gone…

_Stupid Varian, who had stolen his aunt from him_.

The thought feels bitter on Eugene’s tongue- he knows, somewhere deep down, that it’s not fair to blame Varian for being a baby. He knows that Varian’s done nothing consciously, he just… _existed_ and everything crumbled around Eugene’s ears- but it doesn’t stop the prince from _hating_ that stupid baby deep in his ten year old soul.

“I’m telling you, Lance!” Eugene says to his best friend one evening, high on the parapets of the castle, “The kid’s a menace! Uncle Quirin had to stop my lessons because of him; Uncle Hector just throws knives at me and tells me to _dodge_ \- that’s not training, that’s attempted regicide!”

Lance nods along, looking sage. He taps at his chin, swinging his legs off the rampart they’re sitting on. They’re hiding up in the taller parts of the castle again, away from prying eyes and crying babies. Lance snuck into the castle more often than Eugene was able to sneak out, so their usual meeting place was high up and away from the more populated sections. The wind brushes through Eugene’s hair, mussing it up, but the sunset before them is beautiful to look at.

Out here, where it’s just him and his best friend, Eugene can forget about duties and lessons and _little cousins_ \- he can just be Eugene, and Lance is just Lance. It’s a valuable time, one they have to steal and sneak to get, but Eugene wouldn’t trade it for the world. Lance, also, gives good advice, in Eugene’s opinion. 

“Well, that sounds cruddy.” Lance says, “What if you…hm. I guess you can’t just get rid of him.” 

“ _Right_?” Eugene’s back slams into the wall he’s leaning against. “And the worst part? Is that _everyone_ ’s wrapped around Varian’s stupid little fingers.” 

Lance bites his lip, eyes narrowing in thought. “Well, what if you tried to teach him to speak? Then you could tell him how annoying he’s being!” 

“Dad says that Varian won’t stop talking for another month or so.” Eugene pouts, “And even then, I bet he’d think it’s funny, the little jerk… what if I leave him in the woods to go be adopted by wolves?”

“Miss Binny says that’s a fairy tale.” Lance shrugs, looking thoughtful. “She told us that if we left the orphanage and tried to get adopted by wolves, they’d just eat us.”

“Oh.” Uncle Quirin probably wouldn’t forgive Eugene if Varian got eaten by wolves. Might have to shelve that idea for a later date. Eugene kicks his feet a little harder, swinging them over the edge. Far below he can see the courtyard, the guards look like ants from so high up. Eugene may not be able to give the kid away to wolves... but the core thought prevails.

“What if I found him a new family?” Eugene says, “Not a wolf family, but a human one.” 

Lance brightens at that, nodding. “He’s cute,” The other boy says. “The cute ones _always_ get adopted quick.” 

“Perfect, then!” Eugene says and begins to think. He’d just need to find someone willing to take the little wretch, which, as Lance said, should be easy, right? Surely _someone_ out there wants a crying, useless lump to take care of? 

“But won’t mister Quirin miss him?” Lance asks, “I just don’t want you to get into trouble.” 

“Nah,” Eugene says, “Once he’s gone, and they remember how nice it was before Varian got here, then they’ll _thank me_.” 

“Oh, good point!” Lance smiles. “Hey, you think after he’s gone I can have his room?” 

Oh yeah, this plan was foolproof. All Eugene had to do was wait for a time where he could take Varian around and find him a new home, a new _family_ , and everything would work out. Things would _finally_ go back to normal, and Eugene wouldn’t be left to the sidelines anymore-

All there was left to do was wait.

Eugene’s chance doesn’t come for another month, but when it does he’s _ready._

The merchants of the Seven Kingdoms only come to the main city a few times a year- usually they set up down in the lower town- but once a year they make the climb to the castle in order to throw something of a bazaar in the castle courtyard. They’re always Eugene’s favorite events, there’s merchants from all over the Seven that show up, and jugglers, and entertainers, and last year he even saw a fire-breather-

“Come on now, Horace.” Hector says, “Keep up. Don’t want you getting lost.” 

Eugene forces himself to run a little faster, keeping up with the long strides of his uncle. Varian laughs from his place in a small pack on Hector’s back- Quirin was having another _off day_ as the adults called it, deciding to stay inside again. Varian had been passed off to Hector for the afternoon, as had Eugene for the fair. 

_Perfect_.

The plan’s still at the forefront of his mind; Eugene had been waiting for a chance like this for a _month_. Varian peeks at Eugene with his big blue eyes and smiles a little grin at him, waving tiny arms at Eugene like he’s the best thing Varian’s ever seen. Eugene glares at the baby- Hector’s facing away from them, so Eugene can make direct eye contact with the little monster as Varian borderline dangles from his place on Hector’s back. 

The day goes by quickly, as it always does on fair day, but eventually Eugene gets his chance.

“Can you hold the squirt for a second?” Hector asks, “I’ll go get us some food.”

“Sure, Uncle Hector!” Eugene chirps, putting a big, dumb smile on his face when Hector hands him Varian. The kid’s still tiny, though now it’s like holding a _medium_ sized sack of potatos, as opposed to a small one. Varian is much more _squirmy_ , however, wiggling and trying to see everything he can. Eugene keeps a firm grip on the kid, lest the baby tumble from his arms and into the dirt.

_Perfect_ , he thinks, as Varian wraps his chubby baby arms around Eugene’s neck with a happy coo, _absolutely perfect._

Hector holds up a finger telling Eugene to stay put, before vanishing into the crowd. Eugene waits patiently for the man to go, waits another minute… and then spins on his heel and starts wandering off into the bazaar properly.

“Okay, you little twerp,” Eugene mutters, “Let’s go find some sucker to leave you with.”  
  
  


Varian babbles, a mishmash of syllables and coos that are _close_ to words but not quite there yet. His arms are tight around Eugene’s neck as the older boy wanders through the bazaar. There’s a lot of merchants from around the Seven Kingdoms, surely _someone_ would want the little wretch currently trying to choke Eugene to death. He ducks around a myriad of people of varying shapes and styles, a man on stilts goes walking by and Eugene can’t help but pause and look up at him. The bazaar is a collection of colours and smells that he’s never experienced before, neons and deep shades that seem to trick the eye- the smell of spices and sauces Eugene had never even _heard of,_ collections of tomes and novels from every corner of the Seven-

“Oh!” Eugene says, “I think I know just the person.” 

With a destination in mind, Eugene hustles towards a specific tent. It’s one of the larger ones, made of a soft, cheery yellow fabric and held up with thin poles. Eugene dips into the tent with a sense of familiarity, breathing in the smell of old books. It’s filled to the brim with shelves, all of them packed full of books of varying sizes. Eugene smiles widely- this was always his favorite stall. 

“Ah, the young prince returns to me once again!” Comes a creaky voice from the back of the tent, and Eugene turns with a smile.

“Hi, Buzavah!” The boy chirps, beelining for the back of the large tent. He passes shelves upon shelves of books, old, new, and every state in between. Near the back is a large desk, as it is every year, and behind that desk is one of Eugene’s favorite people in the world.

Buzavah Panno is an elderly gentleman; the skin around his face is wrinkled and droopy like old leather, with the colour to match. Despite his age, Buzavah’s brown eyes constantly spark with mirth and mischief- and he always knew _exactly_ what book to recommend. His hair is white and wild, nearly sticking up in many places. His accent is thick, but nearly lyrical; Eugene could listen to the man speak for hours. And when he smiles, Buzavah lights up the room.

“Good fare, Prince Eugene!” The man says with that very smile splitting his face. His bushy salt-and-pepper eyebrows mash together in confusion when he spots the prince’s little clingy addition, but the man’s brown eyes sparkle with joy at the sight of the two of them together.

“Young lad, I don’t mean to startle you, but you seem to have grown an extra head!” Buzavah cackles, slowly making his way around his desk to crouch closer to Eugene’s height. “Now, I might be an old fool, but I wasn’t aware that children here grew an extra head, how _fascinating._ ” 

Eugene laughs, the image presented in his head strange enough to force a giggle from him. Buzavah laughs with the ten year old, gently reaching out a hand towards Varian. The baby twists in Eugene’s arms to look at the old man, his big, blue eyes focusing on the bookkeeper with a curious expression. Buzavah offers a gnarled finger to the infant, smiling when Varian reaches out a tiny hand and wraps it around the middle of the digit. 

“And who might this be, then?” The man asks, “A little brother?”

“More like a little _bother_.” Eugene mutters. “All he does is cry.” 

“Well, he doesn’t seem to be crying at the moment,” Buzavah’s finger wiggles- Varian murmurs in delighted shock. “In fact, I think he seems to be a very agreeable young man.” 

“Yeah, it’s an act.” Eugene grumps. “But I’m gunna trade him for something fun today.” 

“Are you now?” The old man laughs, as if Eugene’s not serious. “And what do his parents have to say about that?” 

Eugene pauses, thinks about Quirin’s potential reaction. Varian makes a grumpy noise- and Eugene steels himself. The twisting, guilty feeling rears its head for a second, but Eugene shoves it down and refuses to acknowledge it. This is for the best; Quirin would thank him once everything was back to normal. Eugene would get his family back, and Varian would be out of his hair. 

Buzavah doesn’t wait for Eugene to answer, slipping his finger from Varian’s grip and wandering over to a nearby shelf. 

“I think I have something that may catch your interest,” He says, poking around the books, until he draws one out. A small puff of dust floats out as he does so. “I know you have an affinity for our friend Flynn Rider, and I managed to get ahold of this in Vardaros-”

“The new one!” Eugene crows, nearly dropping Varian in his haste to grab the book. “I haven’t read that one yet!” 

Eugene shoves Varian towards the old man without thinking; Buzavah grabs the baby with frantic hands. Varian grumbles as he’s scooped up, the old bookkeeper struggling under the new weight before adjusting. Eugene paws at his new book, eyes scanning the cover with excitement. 

“Oh wow!” The prince crows, “This is perfect! It’s a trade!” 

“A- what?” Buzavah asks, but Eugene’s already headed for the exit. 

“Thanks, Buzavah!”

“Young prince, wait-”

And Eugene’s gone.

The old man pauses, unable to chase after the young boy with his old knees. With a concerned expression Buzavah looks to Varian, who only makes little murmurs as he wiggles in the bookkeeper’s hold. There’s a beat of silence between the old man and the baby, Buzavah looking nervous.

“I don’t suppose you can tell me where you came from, my young friend?” The man asks the infant, who begins to blow spit bubbles. Varian squeals in joy, very content with himself. Buzavah laughs, adjusting his hold on the baby to one he’s more familiar with- from his own children, and his current grandchildren.

“Well.” The bookkeeper sighs, and sets Varian down on a padded chair, the high backing allows the baby to sit up on his own, looking up at his impromptu babysitter. Varian sits mostly still, murmuring little baby noises to himself. Buzavah sighs, but keeps his smile. “I can’t exactly leave my stock unattended, at least not until tonight. I hope you’re from the castle, young sir, or else we’re going to have to go looking for your mother.” 

He gently pokes the baby in the tummy; Varian squeals with delight, kicking his feet. A soft, nostalgic smile splits Buzavah’s wrinkled face, the man lost in memories of years ago, those of his own children being so small.

“We’ll find your family soon,” He assures the infant, even if Varian’s unable to understand a word he says, and also seems content with chewing his own hand. The man gently removes the baby’s hand, shaking it in a way that makes the baby laugh. In Buzavah’s opinion, the little one’s a better behaved infant than _any_ of his four children had been- but something also tells him the prince hadn’t really had to deal with a baby before. His own eldest, now a grown man, had _hated_ his younger siblings when he was the prince’s age- Buzavah can’t help but laugh at seeing this exact scenario play out with the royal family of a kingdom not his own. 

Ah, families. 

With a nostalgic sigh, the old man steps to a nearby shelf, plucking down a small set of carved key-toys on a wooden ring, large and rounded and painted with multiple fun colours. They jangle together as he moves, drawing the attention of Buzavah’s guest. The old man hobbles back to the baby, handing the toy to the little one. Varian makes little grabby hands as the man hands him the toy, cooing in delight as he shakes it. The baby seems delighted as the keys make noise as they hit each other, his eyes wide as he watches them swing on the ring.

“Here you are,” The man says, smiling as Varian’s eyes light up at the baby toy. “If you would stay agreeable for the next hour, at that point we can see about finding your parents.”

Varian grunts as he shoves one of the keys in his mouth, and Buzavah takes it as agreement. 

“I thank you for your patience, young sir.” 

Eugene makes his way back to the castle with a smile splitting his face. His new book is a wonderful weight in his arms, _much_ better than some cranky baby. The bazaar has started to wind down for the day, the sun slowly starting to set over the colourful tents and the people retreating inside for the night. The prince walks into the main hall with his ill gotten gain, intending to make his way to his bedroom and start reading, but he’s stopped by the sound of frantic footsteps.

“Horace!” A set of frantic voices call, and the boy turns to see his father, and the entire Brotherhood, running across the marble floors. His dad reaches him first, Edmund scooping up the boy in a jarring hug. “Oh, thank the Moon.” The man whispers, “Where did you go? Hector said he turned around for a second and the two of you were gone-”

“Wait, where’s Varian?!” Quirin demands.

Eugene tenses at the question. His family looks more distressed once they realize only one of their children stands before them. He looks down to the book in his hands, suddenly feeling sick. The twisting feeling sinks into his stomach, more vicious than ever before.

“I- the market-” Eugene starts, and Quirin doesn’t pause to listen to more. The man pushes past them all, Hector and Adira quickly following. Eugene feels his father let him go, and looks up to see the disappointment in his dad’s eyes.

“He’s _fine_!” The boy argues, “And I just wanted things to go back to normal…” 

Edmund’s face is the picture of disappointment. The sick feeling in Eugene’s gut only gets worse, a coil twisting tighter and tighter- but the boy refuses to back down. He’d _fixed things_ , they’d see it soon-

“Horace, you didn’t.” The man says, “ _Please_ , tell me you didn’t.”

And Eugene _snaps_.

“Everything was _perfect_ before the baby got here!” Eugene wails; he can feel burning tears growing behind his eyes. His voice echoes around the stone hall. “Uncle Quirin would teach me swordfighting, and- and Auntie Ulla was here to- to teach me science and read me stories and tuck me in- a-and-”

Eugene’s voice cracks with sobs, but his father remains unaffected. The man’s face is usually stoic, it’s true- but now it’s _icy_. Eugene pushes anyways, if his father would just listen, then maybe he’d see where Eugene’s coming from.

“And t-then stupid _Varian_ had to come and-d everyone started ignoring me, and I- I just wanted things back to normal! When people LOVED ME!” 

Eugene’s shout echoes around the empty hall. Edmund sighs, something wrung out and tired, and pinches the bridge of his nose. Like this is just another matter of state, another issue to be passed off to the advisors. It makes Eugene’s blood boil- can’t he see that his son’s been _replaced_?

“Go to your room.” The king says, “We’ll speak of this later, once Varian is found.” 

Something in Eugene snaps, the anger rising up like bile in his throat. 

“ _Listen to me_!” Eugene wails, stomping his foot. Edmund’s brows raise, but the king’s expression darkens. 

“ _Go. To your. Room_.” Edmund says, turning around to walk out the main doors, following the Brotherhood out into the courtyard. Eugene’s teeth grit; his hands balled so tightly into fists that his nails cut into his palms, but Edmund doesn’t turn around. Suddenly the hall feels all the more cavernous, cold and unfeeling and _massive-_ and Eugene, for the first time in a while, feels very, _very_ small.

The doors slam behind his father, and Eugene’s left alone in the center of the hall. The sick feeling begins to spread, the feeling reminiscent of when he’d been caught nicking pastries or replacing Hector’s face paint with ink, a small twist of his stomach- but this is the first time it’s been amplified enough to make him _sick_.

Guilt, he realizes idly. 

_Gross_.

The book in his hands suddenly doesn’t feel like a comforting weight- instead it feels like a ball and chain, dragging him down, down, _down_ \- 

With a scowl, Eugene throws the book to the ground, the thing explodes on impact with the stone floors of the hall and releases a flurry of torn pages across the tiles. _Stupid book, stupid Varian, stupid everyone_ , Eugene thinks bitterly. This wasn’t his fault, he was trying to help them, why didn’t they see that?! 

Scowl set firmly on his face, Eugene kicks the snapped spine of the book clear across the room. It hits a nearby wall with a _fwumph_ that echoes in a way that makes Eugene smile. He spins on his heel and marches to his room. As angry as he is, it wouldn’t be good to get caught disobeying his dad- especially if they can’t find Varian. Eugene hopes they won’t, maybe then everyone would finally start seeing sense again.

One can only hope.

They find the stupid baby. 

Eugene pouts to himself when Quirin returns not over an hour later, looking grim and disappointed. The boy’s lying face down on his bed, where he’d dramatically thrown himself to scream his frustration, when his uncle enters the room with a sigh. Eugene refuses to look up when the man sits at the foot of his bed.

“We found Varian.” Quirin says, breaking the silence between them, and Eugene scowls. “Old Buzavah was bringing him back- what in the _seven hells_ were you thinking?!”

“I was _thinking_ that he needed a new family!” The boy screams into his pillow. “This one’s taken!” 

Quirin seems to pause for a second at that. Eugene’s surprised to feel a gentle hand on his back, between his shoulder blades. The prince shrugs it off roughly, but doesn’t fight it when the hand comes back. It’s been a while since Quirin had been outside his chambers, Eugene can’t help but feel a small spark of joy at his uncle’s presence. Quirin keeps talking, fumbling for words but doing his best. 

“Just because Varian’s here… it doesn’t mean we love you any less-”

“Then why did everyone replace me?!”

There’s another beat of silence. Eugene refuses to look, scared to see the affirmation that _yes_ , _they had replaced him_. Eugene couldn’t take the heartbreak, the betrayal at knowing that Varian had taken his place. 

“Replace you?” 

Quirin sounds legitimately confused. Eugene’s face squishes together into an _are-you kidding-me_ expression. 

“You can’t do my lessons anymore-”

“For a few weeks, until we can find a proper nanny-”

“And Hector and Adira play with the baby more-”

“Because I have to sleep sometime-”

“And Auntie Ulla left.”

That stops Quirin. The hand on his back stills, and Eugene peeks over his shoulder to look at the man sitting on the end of his bed. Quirin looks somber, almost… mournful. His face is pulled into such a devastated expression that Eugene is forced to pause. He’s reminded of when Varian had been born, of Quirin sitting on a bench outside the infirmary looking like the world had stopped spinning. It makes the guilt twist tighter, burrow deeper-

“Ulla didn’t leave us because of Varian.” Quirin says, looking like the words physically hurt him. “She left because she wanted to pursue her dream… she left _all_ of us behind, Horace.” 

The prince pauses at that, thinking it over. “But… she left after the baby.” 

“Because of bad timing.” Quirin sighs. “She didn’t want to leave, but her dream was out there- she was convinced she was coming back, so she left. But don’t you _ever_ doubt that she loved you- when she had the baby, you didn’t lose space in her heart… she wouldn’t allow it. Families never replace their members… they only make room for more. Varian couldn’t replace you, _nobody_ could- but all we ask is that you make room for him, too.”

Oh. 

_Oh._

“So… you still love me?” Eugene asks, scared, quiet, tired, worried-

“Of course.” Quirin says, “We all do. Especially Varian.” 

“No he doesn’t,” Eugene muttered, “He cries when I hold him, and I tried to trade him for a book-”

“And you make him laugh. Did you know Hector and Adira still can’t do that?” Quirin says. Eugene’s shocked at the news- he thought Varian was a giggly little lump- but Quirin nods. “Only you, it seems.” The man smiles. “You’re Varian’s favorite person... but don’t tell Hector that, it’ll break his heart.” 

Eugene can’t help but let out a watery laugh at that, sitting up and hugging Quirin properly. “Am I in trouble?” The prince asks, and he feels Quirin tense. 

“That’s up to your father.” Quirin says, “Outside of my paygrade, unfortunately.” 

Eugene pouts- he knows that _that_ is a storm on the horizon for sure- but accepts it. Quirin lets go of the hug with one last squeeze, patting him on the shoulder. The knight leaves, with a final smile, closing the door gently behind him. The prince watches his uncle go, thinking deeply. If Ulla really hadn’t left because of the baby… and if everyone else still loved him…

He owed Varian an apology. 

Part of him is still a little bitter- mostly about the loss of sleep and the _crying_ \- but in retrospect Eugene knows he’s been selfish. The guilt, while it had been quiet during his talk with Quirin, came back in full force. His family hadn’t been stolen from him, it had only grown bigger. Ulla hadn’t left him, she’d given him the greatest gift she could.

A little brother.

Eugene slides off the bed, wandering across the room and cracking the wooden door open. The hallway beyond is cold and dark, but abandoned. Eugene shifts the door open a little more, slipping out and into the light of the torches, making his way one door over to the nursery. It’s late afternoon, but Eugene knows the schedule by now; Varian would have been set down for his nap.

Lo and behold, when Eugene sneaks into the nursery next door, he can hear tired little noises from the crib on the far end of the room. The nursery is slightly smaller than Eugene’s own bedroom, filled to the brim with toys and books- most of them hand-me-downs from Eugene himself. There’s chairs and couches on one side of the room, mostly for reading before bed, and the walls are painted a cheery, soft yellow, like sunlight. Eugene has a lot of good memories of this room from his own childhood- and now he’s ready to make another one.

He quietly pads over, peeking up and over the edge of the bassinet. He’s struck by the sudden memory of months ago, first meeting the little thing that would turn his whole world upside down. 

Varian looks up at him with those big, blue eyes. His face splits into a gummy smile, the baby just as peppy as he was when Eugene had dropped him off. The older boy can’t help but smile, reaching a hand down. Varian grabs at Eugene, flailing tiny baby arms at him, but instead of grabbing his hand, the baby leans up and grabs at Eugene’s entire arm, hugging it tightly to him.

“Oooooo!!” Varian squeals into the silent room, clinging tight. “Oooooo!!” 

Eugene laughs at the noise, bringing his other hand in to properly pick up the baby. Varian makes happy little coos at him, delighted by this turn of events- even more so when Eugene begins to bounce him a bit as he wanders to a nearby couch. 

“Ooog!” The baby squeals, and Eugene’s brows wrinkle.

“Are you trying to say something?” The boy asks, meeting the baby’s eyes. Varian usually mumbled random syllables, babbling to himself, but the baby’s repeating his little _oooo_ noises more than he usually would. “Oooo?” Eugene tries, smiling as Varian’s face lights up. 

“Oooo-gee!” The baby squeals again, bringing his little hands up to _pap_ at Eugene’s face. The boy snickers, bouncing the baby a little more. He sits on the couch with a small _fwumph_ , careful not to jostle the baby in his arms. Now that he’s sitting Eugene can’t help but feel the exhaustion of the day creeping up on him- he sinks deeper into the couch as Varian continues to chant.

“Ooo-gee, huh?” The prince asks, “What’s an Ooo-gee?”

“Ooo-gee!” Varian says again, almost sounding offended. The little hand grabs a hold of Eugene’s nose, squeezing it. Eugene feels himself pause for a second, thinking hard.

“Are… are you trying to say my name?” He asks, soft and shocked. Varian keeps gently slapping him, mumbling.

“Oo-gee!” He says firmly, like that’s an answer.

“You _are_!” Eugene gasps, “Oh, oh my- _why_? I thought you hated me?!” 

_Or_ , something in Eugene points out, _did you just assume that_.

Oh, by the Moon, he’d had this all wrong. Eugene coos slightly and holds his little brother closer, tugging the baby into the first real hug they’d ever shared. The warm feeling from before, the one he’d been ignoring this whole time, comes back with a new force, starting from his heart and flowing all the way to his fingertips. _Love_ \- Eugene realizes, _I love the kid, and the kid loves me_. Varian keeps chirping Eugene’s name, or at least his best attempt at it, happy to be close to his big brother. The older boy sniffles, hugging the baby close. 

“I really messed up.” Eugene tells the baby with a choked voice, “Do you think that we could maybe… start again?” 

“Oo-gee!” Varian says, and Eugene takes it as agreement. He sniffles again, rubbing at his eyes. Varian was too little to understand the gift of forgiveness, but Eugene would spend as much time as he could making it up to Varian for the past six months. _Moon_ , he’d already missed six months of time with his little brother- they had so much to make up for!

[“Thanks for not calling me Horace.”](https://finnoky.tumblr.com/post/625830644176551936/what-if-dk-varians-first-word-was-eugene) Eugene mumbles, lying down on the couch. He transitions so that Varian is lying on his stomach, settled into the curve of Eugene’s arms where he’s nice and safe. “Now… have you ever heard about Flynn Rider?” 

Varian squeals in response, seemingly entertained just by being around his older brother. Eugene hugs him tighter, launching into the story with a yawn. The couch beneath him is plush and soft, and Varian is a light weight on his chest. The baby seems to be drifting off- oh, right, Eugene interrupted nap time- and Eugene can’t help but settle deeper into the couch on his back. Varian is settled safely in his arms, clinging tight to Eugene’s shirt, and that warm feeling continues to permeate the moment- Eugene finds he could get _very_ used to this. He continues to mumble a summary of the first book to his brother, but slowly nods off after the first half hour, succumbing to sleep as the two of them snuggle together. 

When Quirin finds them a half hour later, they’re both dead asleep, curled up around each other like they belong there.

And, in a way, they do. 

**Author's Note:**

> Ayyy you made it to the end!! Thanks again, Finnoky for letting me play in your sandbox for a bit! I hope I did it justice haha <3 
> 
> Also the bit where Eugene tries to trade Varian is 100% based on little, 5 year old Anna trying to convince people to adopt my little brother in a walmart for like, half an hour before my mom caught wise lmao


End file.
